


Forever Growing Centipedes, You and I

by KeriArentikai



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Angst, Apparently the author is in an unpleasant mood, Bottom!Stiles, Damaged Derek, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeriArentikai/pseuds/KeriArentikai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's still in love with Lydia, he thinks, he still wants to be her boyfriend and hold her hand. But with Derek... it's different.  With Derek, he wants secret trysts.  He wants to suck Derek's cock, and he imagines it vividly.  He wants Derek to tell him secrets, things he wouldn't tell anyone else, and Stiles wants to keep those secrets for him.  When he dreams about Derek, he doesn't dream about going to prom with a group of friends or a future and a life together; instead he dreams of nights when they'd feel like the only two people in the world.<br/>______<br/>Basically: crushes, angst, sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Growing Centipedes, You and I

**Author's Note:**

> So, fic happened again. I swear, this is the last time for a while. And this one is pretty self-indulgent, sorry. I just let the angst flow. 
> 
> Title comes from the song "Forever Growing Centipedes" by The Faint. (Oooh, I've never done a song lyric for a title before. I feel so deliciously clichéd).
> 
> ETA: Check out the [AWESOME, super NSFW art](http://captaindick.tumblr.com/post/40777422278/a-comission-for-keriarentikai-through-the-sterek) that captaindick drew for this!

Stiles has always felt differently about boys and girls. It started with girls - Jessie in second grade and Lydia from third grade on. He wants to kiss Lydia gently on the lips. He wants to walk through sunny meadows with her. He wants to walk down the hallway at school holding her hand. He wants to get married and have 2.4 children and a white picket fence with her.

But noticing guys started later. It wasn't any particular guy, Stiles didn't really have crushes on any guys. He just started watching gay porn and... wow. When he had wet dreams, they usually featured guys and not girls, and when he stroked himself when his father wasn't home, he would imagine some anonymous guy jacking him off. Lydia and actual sex didn't quite compute.

And he was okay with all of this, until he did get something like a crush on a guy. It wasn't a crush like he was used to - he's still in love with Lydia, he thinks, he still wants to be her boyfriend and hold her hand. But with Derek... it's different. With Derek, he wants secret trysts. He wants to suck Derek's cock, and he imagines it vividly. He wants Derek to tell him secrets, things he wouldn't tell anyone else, and Stiles wants to keep those secrets for him. When he dreams about Derek, he doesn't dream about going to prom with a group of friends or a future and a life together; instead he dreams of nights when they'd feel like the only two people in the world.

He knows that both Lydia and Derek are unrealistic fantasies. It's more clear than ever with Lydia, since the whole Jackson thing happened. And he knows that Derek would break his heart if anything ever happened (not like it would - Stiles has absolutely no reason to think that Derek has any interest in men). Stiles could see himself getting so entirely wrapped up in Derek, Derek who is so damaged, and losing major, very important parts of himself in the process. It's a good thing, he tells himself, that it'll never happen. He's not really convinced.

***

Derek knows Stiles is afraid of him, and it makes him angry. He can hear how Stiles' heart speeds up every time Derek looks at him. Derek's not stupid - he knows he's a violent dick with anger issues, and a werewolf, and he knows he's pushed Stiles around a bit. But Erica actually knocked him out with a piece of metal and he's not afraid of her. Scott tried to kill him and Allison's grandfather beat him and Isaac tried to attack him, and he's not afraid of any of them. Derek wonders what's so wrong about him.

Sometimes he lies awake at night and wonders what would have happened if Stiles had been bitten and not Scott. Would he still be here, sleeping in an empty train car, with his only pack member a kid who kind of hates him? Would Stiles have told him to be gentler with Isaac, not to break his fucking arm, not to act like his father? Would Erica and Boyd still have left him? 

Sometimes he lies awake at night and wonders, if Stiles had been the one who was bitten, if he would be feeling so empty and alone now.

***

They don't know where Scott or Isaac are when the Alphas attack. Stiles had gone to find Derek to confront him about the mysterious attacks in the woods and when Derek started explaining about the Alpha pack, two of them appeared. One of them slashed Stiles' thigh before Derek could get him out of the way and they hit and slashed and bit Derek before he threw them back far enough to allow him and Stiles to run away. Then he and Stiles were running, limping, panting, until they finally got to Stiles' house. 

They're inside and Derek thinks they're safe - for now. But Stiles is worried about Derek. He knows wounds from Alphas don't heal as quickly and he's pretty beat up. So he drags him up to the bathroom and makes him take off his jacket and shirt and wipes his wounds carefully with disinfectant before bandaging them. He tries very, very hard not to stare at the undamaged parts of Derek's chest, not to be affected by his nearness or the feel of his skin beneath his fingertips. By the time he's done, Derek is looking much better physically, although his scowl is not going away.

***

Derek doesn't understand Stiles at all. Why would he let Derek into his house if he's so terrified of him? His heart is just racing and has been ever since they went into the bathroom. Once Stiles has finished with him, Derek knows its his turn to help Stiles, whether Stiles wants it or not. That claw-mark across his thigh is probably not too deep, but he's human. He places Stiles down on the edge of the tub, where he had been sitting.

"Take off your pants," Derek says. And Stiles' heartbeat is off like a shot, and Derek can't help himself.

"I'm not going to hurt you, goddamn it." Great, he thinks, yelling at the kid is definitely going to help.

He looks at Stiles, and Stiles is staring at him like he's absolutely stupid. "I know that." Derek thinks he's not lying.

"So take off your fucking pants," Derek growls. He hears Stiles' heart rate respond, even faster this time, and the gears start turning in his head. If it's not fear, then... oh. Oh. He watches Stiles as he stands and, red-faced, pulls down his pants. 

Ever since Kate, Derek has preferred to sleep with guys, but he's just never had time for a gay crisis since his life was kind of full and he had no family to come out to. And his sex drive died when Laura did - he can't remember the last person he slept with or the last time he masturbated (he knows that, if he was human, he'd be thinking about that as a symptom of depression, but he's not human and doesn't have space for depression, either). Derek realizes, all in a rush, that if he had been himself over the last few months, those late-night musings about Stiles would have included thoughts about his body, about their bodies together. About Stiles-as-a-werewolf doing so much more than just making him feel less lonely. But Stiles hadn't been bitten, so he's human, and Derek knows he's breakable.

But Derek can't help himself, he needs to know if his theory is right, if the attraction is reciprocated. So he takes his time wiping the cut on Stiles' thigh and his hands and fingers are gentle, caressing, maybe going higher than they strictly need to. And yeah, Stiles can't hide his growing arousal in his boxer-briefs as Derek leans over his lap, and when Derek looks up at his face he sees Stiles' pupils blown wide and his cheeks burning with shame.

Derek realizes his mistake as soon as he meets Stiles' eyes. What's that old Groucho Marx saying? Something like 'I won't join any club that would have me as a member?' Well, Derek has his own version - he wouldn't get involved with anyone who he actually cares about. He knows he's fucked up and Stiles is just a kid, a human kid, who can do so much better and deserves a life without claws and mountain ash and death stalking him at every turn. He deserves better than Derek.

So Derek leaves.

***

Stiles knows life could be worse - he could have been seriously maimed or killed tonight - but right now he thinks that might have been better since he's going to die from humiliation anyway. In a completely innocent situation, when Derek was just trying to help him out, he got hard. What's wrong with him? Why can't he keep shit to himself? It's stupid enough to have a thing for Derek, he definitely didn't need Derek knowing how much of an idiot he is. He didn't need to have it confirmed that Derek was repulsed by him - whether because he's a guy or because he's Stiles. For the first time, Stiles desperately hopes Derek is as straight as they come, because he's not sure he can handle the alternative.

He sits on his bed with his head cradled in his hands and tries not to cry.

***

It's two days until he next sees Stiles, and Derek has to admit, to himself if to no one else, that they're pretty awful days. Now that the floodgates have opened, Derek can't think of anything but Stiles - his face, his lips, his erection seen only in relief through his underwear, his long body. Now that he's remembered how to do so, he gets himself off several times to thoughts about how that moment in the bathroom could have gone differently. And he wonders if he made the right choice. He thinks so - he knows it was the morally right choice - but he wonders how he's ever going to stop being so lonely if he can't deserve a partner or make a pack without failing.

Stiles is with Scott when he comes by to get information about the Alphas from Derek. Derek feels useless since he doesn't know much - just what Peter told him before he left. Stiles' heart races the whole time and he doesn't meet Derek's eyes once.

So Derek decides, if he can't be with someone he cares about, maybe he can be with someone he doesn't care about. He goes to a gay club, finds someone who looks different enough from Stiles that he's not constantly reminded of him but similar enough that he's still interested and dances with him. He presses him up against a wall and lets the guy mouth at his neck and he tries to be into it. It's not terrible, he thinks, I can probably do this. But then of course - of COURSE - he looks up when he hears a sharply indrawn breath and meets those golden-brown eyes he's been imagining looking up at him when Stiles is on his knees in front of him. 

God help him, he knows what he's doing. He didn't plan this, but maybe it's for the best. He looks away from Stiles and kisses the guy in front of him, and he doesn't stop until he can't hear Stiles' heartbeat or his harsh breathing any more. It's not terrible, he thinks as he's kissing some guy whose last name he doesn't know, but he knows he can't do this. Not tonight, anyway. So he goes home alone.

***

Stiles can't even be mad. It's not like Derek did anything wrong. He's under no obligation to want Stiles just because Stiles wants him. Somehow this doesn't make him feel any better. He lies to Danny about getting a headache and leaves before he can see any more. 

He tries to tell himself that this is a good thing. His question has been asked and answered. And he didn't think that would hurt worse than thinking it was never a possibility in the first place, but it does. He tells himself that it's time to let this thing with Derek go, to grow up and stop acting like a high-schooler with a crush (and okay, he knows that's what he is, but he can't afford to be a high-schooler most of the time these days), to move on. But as hard as he tries, he can't get the image of Derek kissing that guy (his boyfriend? a one night stand?) out of his head and he can't imagine anyone else's body and face when he strokes himself before falling asleep.

Tomorrow, he thinks, tomorrow I'll be done with him.

***

Of course, tomorrow doesn't go as planned. Instead of being done with Derek, he ends up trapped in a cave with him. It's dark and his phone isn't getting any reception and he's pretty sure Scott will eventually come looking for them but they fell into whatever twisted trap the Alphas set for them - some kind of test of Derek's patience, maybe? - and there was a cave-in at the mouth of the cave and they can't figure out how to get out. Derek keeps trying to get close enough to the stones to move them but they're warded somehow, and Stiles can touch them but he's not strong enough to move them. It's pitch black and Stiles thought it was awkward being around Derek when they had shit to do but it's so much worse when there's nothing to do but stand around.

And the silence sucks. They both sitting propped up against the cave wall, just waiting. The darkness makes him feel like they're simultaneously intimate and anonymous, like they're in another reality and what happens here can't follow them back. He chokes on a laugh as he realizes that this is exactly what he had always wanted from Derek. Be careful what you wish for, indeed. As much as he really doesn't want to talk about it, he thinks the words and they come out of his mouth.

***

"Look, I'm sorry. About the other day. In the bathroom," Stiles says.

"What? Why... what is there to be sorry for?"

"For, like, the sexual harassment or whatever. I didn't... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Ever since the night at the club, Stiles' heart doesn't race around him. Derek thought that it had worked, that kissing that guy had made Stiles lose interest. And he knew that would feel shitty, and it did. Somehow it felt even shittier that he knew he'd done that, caused that, driven him away.

But he wonders now if that's what's going on. Stiles' heart has picked up again as he brings up the topic and Derek can't miss how fucking sad he sounds. He may not feel so certain about what Stiles is thinking any more, but he still thinks the word 'shitty' best applies to his own feelings about everything.

"It wasn't... it's no big deal," Derek lies.

"Right. Yeah."

They're quiet for a few minutes. Derek wonders if the Alpha pack is coming to find them, wonders if they plan to kill him, wonders what they want with Stiles. Or if he was just collateral.

"You shouldn't be here. You need to stop hanging around me," Derek tells him, and thinks he's giving him the best possible advice.

But Stiles draws in a sharp breath as if he's been hit and Derek wonders why he can never say the right thing, why he can never stop hurting people.

"Wow, don't sugarcoat things or anything. I got it - mister big strong alpha doesn't need any help. Good luck with that." Stiles' voice is harsh; Derek knows this side of Stiles, the defensive instinct, the ability to hide behind words.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, how did you mean it?"

Derek decides to be uncharacteristically honest. A little honesty can't hurt, he thinks. "I don't want you getting hurt."

***

Stiles is suddenly, blindingly aware that Derek has been hurting him on purpose this last week. After he saw Stiles' interest in him he's done nothing but push him away deliberately. Stiles doesn't know why. Stiles doesn't know why he couldn't have just told him 'no' rather than burden him with images of Derek with another man, with memories of Derek's indifference and his distance.

"That's fucking bullshit," he snaps, and he can't help the anger welling in him. He wants to hurt Derek like Derek has hurt him, but he knows he can't - Derek can hurt him because Stiles lets him, had let him in, something Derek will never do.

He's always been a crier. Most of the time he doesn't mind - he thinks it's a good thing to be in touch with his emotions and fuck anyone who thinks it isn't 'manly', but right now the last thing he wants to do is show Derek more weakness, give him more knowledge of the chinks in his armour. But he can hold back tears of sadness; he can rarely hold back tears of anger and frustration. He doesn't make any sound, but clearly Derek knows anyway.

Derek reaches out his hand to touch Stiles' shoulder, but Stiles slaps it away. "Don't touch me," he grits out.

"Shit," he hears Derek mutter to himself.

***

This, Derek thinks. This is exactly why anything with Stiles is a terrible idea. He's making the boy cry and he's not even sure what he said, what he did to make it happen. He knows it's a good thing for Stiles to stop wanting him, but, sitting here hearing his uneven breathing and smelling the salt of his tears, Derek also knows that this is too much. That he's self-sacrificing, sure, but he's selfish enough that he can't deal with Stiles hating him. He's allowed that much, he thinks. 

But he honestly doesn't know what to do or say to make it better. Telling him the truth set him off, putting up a false front hurt him. Derek feels helpless, lost, like Kate took away not only his ability to be in a healthy relationship but also anyone who could have taught him. 

"Don't hate me," Derek says, for lack of anything better.

Stiles doesn't reply.

"Please," he adds, and he knows he sounds pathetic. 

Stiles sighs.

"I don't hate you. You've been acting like a dick and that is your fault but... this whole thing, it's not your fault. Not really. I can't hate you for not giving me something you don't have it in you to give."

Derek thinks Stiles must know how true that statement is.

"Well," Stiles takes a deep breath, and his voice takes on a tone of bravado, "Danny's been wanting to set me up with a friend of his. I think I'll take him up on the offer - he's pretty cute, at least from the Facebook pictures he showed me."

And Derek hadn't thought of this. Hadn't thought about how the pain of not having Stiles would have to include the pain of someone else having him.

***

Now Stiles is just confused. He thought he was dealing with this in a fairly mature way, after his hissy fit, at least. He told Derek he won't hate him - and that's 99% true, but he thinks that 1% of hate is allowed - and tried to express that he's not going to follow him around like a lost puppy, that he's going to try to move on.

But Derek's eyes flashed red - the only thing Stiles has been able to see for the last hour - and that's not usually a sign that he's happy.

Derek sounds like he's holding back when he says: "I won't do what I did in the club again. In front of you. Maybe... maybe you could do the same. Unless it's someone you're serious with, and then... just get Scott or someone to tell me, to warn me."

What the fuck? And because that's really the only thing in his head, he says it out loud.

Derek's eyes flash red again and Stiles tries to think this through. 

"So... you don't want to see me with other guys."

"No," says Derek, as if the word tastes bad on his tongue.

"Why?"

"You're supposed to be the smart one here, figure it out. You think I act like this much of an asshole around everyone?"

"Yes," Stiles answers honestly, because he can't help it. And he's the one who hears Derek's breath this time, and he thinks, my god, I was wrong, I can hurt him after all.

He shuffles down the wall towards Derek, until their shoulders are pressing together.

"Don't," Derek says, but he doesn't move away. So Stiles puts his head down on Derek's shoulder. And they wait for Scott.

***

When Derek taps on Stiles' window later that night, it's because he figures he's already lost the battle. He could see in Stiles' eyes on the way home that he was calculating, judging exactly how to break down Derek's objections, now that he knows it's not that Derek doesn't want him. He feels guilty and selfish but he's not actually sure he regrets Stiles winning. Derek could have worked harder, could have really pushed him away. But he didn't. He wonders what advice Laura would have given him, and he's pretty sure it wouldn't have been 'act like a dick until he really hates you'.

Stiles lets him in, and his pulse picked up, like he's right back to his old reactions to Derek. Which Derek thinks is insane. Does this boy have no self-preservation instinct?

"You could have come to the front door. My dad's not home."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I could have." Derek didn't have any plan past getting into Stiles' room. He was really hoping Stiles would take over from there, so they stand there awkwardly for a minute.

"I'm not good for you. I'm not good for anyone." Derek makes one last attempt to get Stiles to understand, to know what he's getting into. But Stiles just smiles and moves forward and curves his hand around Derek's jaw.

"So?"

Derek was right. No self-preservation instincts at all.

"So... I'm going to hurt you."

"You probably will at some point. That doesn't mean we shouldn't do this."

"What?"

"You shouldn't go through life afraid to even try. It's not going to work. I know I'm..." his smile wavers for a second, "going to be risking getting hurt. But I want to take the risk. I... I've always known you wouldn't be easy, that I would probably be too intense about it. But I've wanted you anyway. I want you anyway."

Derek just shakes his head. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"So don't," says Stiles, as if it's that easy. And maybe, Derek thinks for the first time, just maybe he can have some control over whether or not he hurts someone. Maybe it's not inevitable - maybe his choices matter. Maybe he can start making some better choices. Maybe this is one. 

Derek leans forward and kisses those lips he's thought so much about in the past few days.

***

Derek's kiss is tentative, gentle. Stiles closes his eyes, as if he's only a few ruby-slipper heel clicks away from being transported back to reality and he wants to hold on to this second just a little longer. 

But it only lasts for a second. Because he and Derek... they're not gentle. One day down the road, they can learn to be, together. But right now they are intense, full of violent and volatile emotion, on the brink of something they both fear, and all they can do is jump over the cliff.

So the kiss becomes less gentle, more demanding, as Derek walks him backwards and pushes him up against the wall, and he can feel the heat between them as they pull off jackets and overshirts and t-shirts, too. Derek's hands feel huge on his neck, on his head, moving him where Derek wants him to be at any given moment. He's so hard already, he tries to calm himself down a bit by pushing Derek back from his body and leaning down to lick across his chest, but when he bites down on Derek's nipple, softly at first but harder as Derek presses his head into his chest, and Derek lets out a glorious moan, Stiles knows this was not such a good calming-down plan after all. But he perseveres, moving his tongue down Derek's body, his mouth and his lips trying to feel all of Derek, touch him everywhere.

Then he's on his knees in front of a shirtless Derek and, oh, he's had so many fantasies about this moment. Even before any pants are off, Stiles thinks this is the best thing ever, just being in this configuration is unbelievably erotic for him. When he looks up at Derek's eyes, he thinks maybe Derek thinks so too - they're flashing red and this time Stiles thinks it is in a happy way.

Stiles doesn't even have to do anything; Derek unzips his jeans and pulls down his pants - god, he was going commando, fucking werewolves - and kicks them aside, and he runs his hand up and down his cock, swollen and hard and ready-looking, right in front of Stiles' face. Stiles has never done this before - never done any of this before - and he worries about screwing up. But he also thinks it doesn't matter, Derek isn't going to let him feel stupid about this.

He's on his knees, gaping at Derek's cock and not moving, so Derek nudges himself against Stiles' open mouth, against his lips which aren't open quite wide enough, and Stiles opens up and lets Derek push into his mouth. Derek makes an undecipherable noise and cups his hand around the back of Stiles' head to guide him back and forth. Stiles looks up at him, his lips wrapped around Derek's girth, and he still can't quite believe this is happening.

He explores with his tongue, the slit, the bottom edge, swirling around the whole head. He's not sure, but he thinks Derek likes that last one the best, since he gripped his head harder and pushed in a little further than he had before. He loves the paradox of this, he thinks. He feels so subjugated - kneeling before another man, getting his mouth fucked as Derek moves his head back and forth in the rhythm he wants - but he also feels powerful, like Derek is at his mercy as much as he's at Derek's. 

Before he's done enjoying his first blow-job (although not before his jaw started to hurt just a little), Derek pulls back and stands there for a moment, his cock still right in Stiles' face and Stiles wonders if Derek wants him to beg for it back, but when he looks up he sees Derek's eyes are closed and he's taking deep breaths. 

So he stands up, takes off his own pants and underwear (he's not a werewolf, dammit, he has to worry about chafing) and nudges Derek in the direction of the bed. Derek takes the hint and suddenly Stiles is on his back on the bed and Derek is on top of him, his tongue in his mouth, his hand on his ass. And Derek's erection is rubbing against his own, until Derek slides down a bit so it's brushing his ass instead. Derek spreads Stiles' legs by pushing them apart with his knees and rubs his dick against his asshole, not pushing in, it's not the best angle for that, but nudging, passing over, playing.

"Please," Stiles gasps.

"Yeah?" Derek asks. Stiles isn't actually sure what Derek is asking, but it doesn't matter.

"Yeah." Derek moans into his neck and nudges a little more firmly at his hole and Stiles wonders if he just agreed to get fucked dry, but he thinks that neither of them would enjoy that too much, so he doubts it. This is confirmed when Derek asks if he has anything, and Stiles gets his bottle of lube out from his bedside table and, yeah, so what, he's tried it before with his fingers. 

"Condom?" Derek asks, and Stiles has a momentary thought of not using one, of feeling Derek skin-to-skin, of feeling his come dripping out of him, but he knows he's making enough questionable decisions tonight not to add another one. And Derek is still waiting, although he must have felt Stiles' cock jump and known what he was thinking, so Stiles takes one out of his drawer.

Derek tenses, and asks tentatively: "Have you..."

Stiles doesn't know whether Derek would be happier if this was his first time or if it wasn't, so he just goes with the truth.

"No. These were wishful thinking." And apparently that was the right answer, or he doesn't actually mind either way, because Derek has relaxed again on top of him. Then he moves down the bed, sitting back on his knees between Stiles' spread legs. Derek moves Stiles' legs for him so the soles of his feet are on the mattress close to his body and he feels so exposed, so open to Derek, so vulnerable physically and metaphorically. Derek pours some lube on his fingers and keeps the bottle open and close by him, and he starts to work Stiles open, staring as if the sight of his fingers going in and out of Stiles' tight hole is the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. And it feels awesome. Stiles is kind of amazed at how awesome it feels. He's always known he liked it on his own, but the angle Derek can get is one he can't. 

Derek's other hand has been exploring Stiles, all the parts of him that it wants to know. His fingers run all around his balls, his penis, his treasure-trail. The touches are soft in comparison to the challenge of Derek's fingers stretching his ass and he worries he's not going to last until Derek fucks him. 

Finally, Derek is satisfied and he puts on the condom and adds extra lube before draping himself back over Stiles. He pushes in slowly even though Stiles can see in his eyes that he wants to go faster, wants to fuck Stiles hard, so as soon as he can manage it, he encourages him with hips and ankles and words. After a while, Derek stops doing what he thinks Stiles needs and instead does what he wants - he flips Stiles over, gets his knees planted on the bed and his shoulders, arms and head down on the bed, too, so Stiles is presenting himself, open and ready, for Derek's pleasure. 

He drives in and Stiles cries out, and Derek's not sure whether it's a good sound or a bad sound but he keeps going, again and again, fucking Stiles how he'd imagined, but so so much better in reality. 

He realizes he was actually pretty sure it was a bad sound Stiles was making, because he feels infinitely surprised when Stiles clenches around him and makes another noise, and Derek feels around to the front of his body, over Stiles' hand which is still moving up and down his cock and which is wet with his release. So he loses himself in Stiles and he's not sure how much longer it goes on - seconds? minutes? hours? - before he's coming and he can feel and smell and hear and taste Stiles all around him. 

Derek gets into bed with him after, and he's pretty sure he's figuring this stuff out, because Stiles smiles and curls up against him.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I tagged this underage just because I felt I had to, but 16 isn't underage where I'm from and I don't see there being any moral issue with the Stiles' age or the age difference.
> 
> And I definitely could have done more proofreading and editing, but I'm so sick of proofreading and editing in my real life, you guys just get whatever the hell comes out.


End file.
